There are unfounded claims that the anti-Semitism of some Wagnerian advocates or the difficulty of Meyerbeer’s extensive works are to blame for their limited performance. Such arguments are misplaced. The recent Bard Summerscape production of Le Prophète clearly demonstrated that Meyerbeer’s grand operas are melodious, engaging, and relevant both to the political issues of his time and today. They provide ample opportunities for skilled singers to showcase their talents.
However, it must be said, Meyerbeer’s works are incredibly lengthy. The Le Prophète performance last Sunday lasted over four hours, excluding the ballets and with two 20-minute intermissions. Meyerbeer seemed unfamiliar with the concept of brevity. Parisian grand opera was never intended as a sampler; it is a full-course meal with numerous courses.
Moreover, staging grand opera in the Paris of Louis-Philippe and Louis-Napoleon, particularly in the most advanced opera house of the time, which first used electronic effects with Le Prophète in 1849, could be prohibitively costly, even before considering the expense of hiring top-tier international singers.
The high cost, the length of the drama, and the age of these operas contributed to their decline from the stage. Opera audiences, like others, yearn for novelty and quickly grow weary of repetition. Meyerbeer, like many of his contemporaries, eventually fell out of favour. Once these grand works went out of style, reviving them proved difficult. A new era of musical storytelling and a different approach to singing emerged, favouring simplicity over the ornate.
Additionally, Le Prophète has been largely overlooked since the Metropolitan Opera’s ill-fated 1977 production, which was tailored for the talents of Marilyn Horne and James McCracken. Horne had long desired to portray Fidès, and the Met’s production offered her a chance to showcase her vocal prowess and tragic acting skills, which were often underappreciated. McCracken was eager to tackle one of Caruso’s renowned roles.
A curious aspect of Parisian grand opera is that the emotional core of the drama is often centred on a mezzo-soprano or contralto rather than a high soprano, despite the brilliance of the higher roles. This pattern is evident in Meyerbeer’s grand operas, as well as in works such as Halevy’s La Juive, Donizetti’s La Favorite, Gounod’s Sapho, Saint-Saëns’s Henry VIII, Thomas’s Mignon, and Massenet’s Hérodiade, Werther, and Don Quichotte, not to mention the opéra-comique Carmen. It raises the question of whether this preference was influenced by the talents of singers like Cornélie Falcon, Rosine Stoltz, and Pauline Viardot (the first Fidès, Sapho, and originally intended Dalila), or if it reflects a Parisian appreciation for deeper female voices.
It is also worth noting that Verdi, who attended the premiere of Le Prophète and subsequently urged Meyerbeer’s librettist, Eugène Scribe, for a similarly impactful opera text, likely drew inspiration for his non-Scribe Trovatore from the emotional depth achieved through the relationship between Fidès and Jean de Leyden.
In the 1970s, despite Marilyn Horne’s remarkable performance and Florence Quivar’s even more beautiful rendition, though less ideal in its fioritura, the Metropolitan Opera’s production of Le Prophète did not attract audiences to the heavily cut and confusing score of a once-familiar work. Rumour has it that this experience led general manager Joseph Volpe to prohibit further Meyerbeer productions at the Met and to advise his successors against engaging with such repertory.
Bard’s conductor and president, Leon Botstein, chose to feature Le Prophète as the highlight of this year’s Summerscape, which is dedicated to Berlioz (who also attended the 1849 premiere). Botstein has stated that the opera’s theme of political corruption by religious hypocrites resonated with current events in the United States. Indeed, the third performance of the run was livestreamed as a timely commentary.
In the opera, Jean of Leyden, the leader of the 16th-century Anabaptist rebellion in Münster who was executed after his utopian experiment was crushed, is reimagined as an innkeeper plagued by feverish dreams of a sacred destiny. In Bard’s production by Christian Räth, this vision is represented by dark angels with burnt-edged wings bearing texts from the Book of Revelation. The unit set, consisting of three movable stage-high tomes, transformed with the help of Rick Fisher and Elaine McCarthy’s intricate lighting, into various locations such as a citadel, cathedral, eerie city streets, and the grim dungeon where Fidès is imprisoned. The disillusioned peasants become desperate refugees, and the final orgy is styled to resemble a glittering event at a modern venue.
Jean’s relationships are complex: he has a mother, Fidès, and a girlfriend, Berthe. However, their feudal overlord, the malevolent Count Oberthal, desires Berthe for himself. Oberthal forces Jean to choose between his girlfriend and his mother, and although Jean chooses Fidès, his deep resentment makes him susceptible to the influence of three dark-voiced evangelists who incite the peasants to revolt. These sinister figures help Jean establish a dictatorship, depicted with women in Handmaid’s Tale bonnets and officers wielding machine guns. Fidès, believing her son has been killed by the infamous Prophet, descends into madness and roams the streets with a baby carriage.
At the opera’s climax, during Jean’s coronation as the Prophet, he declares himself the Son of God, only to hear a cry of “Mon fils!” from the crowd. It is Fidès, who must disown Jean to protect him from the evangelists, who threaten to kill him to preserve their deception. In the final scene, betrayal abounds: the evangelists and Oberthal attempt to hand Jean over to the imperial forces, and Jean detonates the castle where he is hosting a party, complete with a drinking song. Fidès joins him in the final chorus, highlighting the pervasive theme of betrayal.
Although the story unfolds at a leisurely pace, Meyerbeer’s melodies and intricate orchestrations remain both enjoyable and effective, with climaxes that often provide pleasant surprises. However, Berthe’s suicide, when she discovers that the man she sought to kill was her own boyfriend, elicited a general titter from the audience.
Despite the wealth of good music in Meyerbeer’s works—having seen six of his operas, I can attest to their quality—Robert le Diable remains notably absent from contemporary repertoires. Once L’Opéra’s biggest hit for a century, it was only the loss of its grand sets in a fire that halted further revivals. Any performance featuring competent singers is sure to excite and intrigue audiences. Bard’s presentation did justice to Meyerbeer’s work, as Summerscape typically does.
Robert Watson, who played Jean de Leyden, was reported to have been under the weather on opening night. A week later, however, he performed in excellent form, demonstrating a strong, passionate lyric-Wagnerian voice. His portrayal ranged from subtly intense during his interactions with Fidès to emotionally powerful in the dungeon scene and exultant in the final moments.
Jennifer Feinstein’s voice has a contralto timbre, differing from both Horne’s and Quivar’s. Her voice is appealing, and her fioritura impressive. While she may not convey the same poignancy or self-pity that Horne brought to Act III, her depiction of desperate madness was particularly moving.
Amina Edris, who portrayed Berthe, impressed with a flawless blend of declamatory technique, coloratura style, and a stunning voice. Having previously admired her performance in Gounod’s Sapho at the Washington Concert Opera, it was evident that she excels in Meyerbeer’s repertoire, as demonstrated by her recording of Alice in Robert le Diable. Her contribution, along with her co-stars, created a particularly memorable dungeon trio in Act IV.
The corrupt evangelists formed a robust trio. Harold Wilson delivered his exhortations and threats with powerful resonance, Brian Vu’s tenor exuded a self-satisfied malice, and Wei Wu’s basso provided a thunderous, ominous presence. Zachary Altman’s precise movements as Count Oberthal gave him a striking, almost Hollywood Nazi-like appearance.
The Bard Festival Chorale effectively represented a modern video cliché of a refugee camp, seamlessly transitioning into a street uprising and a bloodthirsty mob. However, the staging, much like many contemporary productions, confined all performers to the stage apron, neglecting the ample space behind them where traditional acting and singing used to take place. It raises the question of whether there is a fear of missing television cues or a lack of training in projecting from mid-stage.
Under Leon Botstein’s direction, the performance of grand and intimate scenes flowed smoothly. While the bombast of the Coronation Procession seemed somewhat diminished—possibly due to heavy cuts—the central confrontation between mother and son, and the clash with the hypocritical religious figures, was effectively conveyed.
The drama of Le Prophète captivated the audience, with very few departures during the performance.
Photos: Andy Henderson
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